


Migration

by ImInPsyshock



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Canon, Avery gets assigned babysitting duty 2, Friendship, Galarian Legendary Bird Trio, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Various Pokemon - Freeform, exploring the galar region!, gender-neutral protagonist, maybe you shouldn't allow a 14 year old to face god sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImInPsyshock/pseuds/ImInPsyshock
Summary: Avery thought things might be easier after officially requesting a challenge for his family's gym. He had survived Mustard's training, humiliating defeats at the hands of his rival, and the upward struggle of being kinder to himself, so this should have been the last step to catharsis.At least, it would have been, if the Champion hadn't showed up just as they'd left his mind.It would have been, if all of a sudden, strange and violent Pokémon hadn't begun to appear across Galar, including his beloved Isle of Armour, and if the Champion hadn't seemed in over their head.Perhaps the road to his eventual success was much more rocky than he originally thought.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	1. Malevolence

**Author's Note:**

> I pull a microphone up to my face on a stage. Give Avery Pokémon more content, I say sagely. The audience applauds.
> 
> Truthfully, I just really, really loved both DLCs! They filled me with such joy and delight that I just had to start writing about them. All of the characters in Sword and Shield are really fun, and I have such a soft spot for Avery. So I'm doing what Game Freak didn't and tying him in more to the plot of the second DLC! I hope you enjoy some good ol' not-goose chasing.

Six months was barely any time in the grand scheme of things. 26 weeks, 180 days, 4,380 hours, 262,800 minutes...and quite frankly too many seconds to really bother with, in Avery’s mind. But those hundreds of thousands of minutes had come and gone, as if someone had used Hypnosis on him and he had woken up in the future, not that Future Sight would have predicted where he would be now. 

The punishment he had been given by Mustard had come and gone like a snap of his fingers. That wasn’t to say it had been uneventful - oh, it had been eventful on the Isle of Armour. Avery had never quite considered himself a good babysitter, not having any younger siblings, but he had assumed baby  Pokémon would be much more pleasant than human toddlers, armed with tiny fists and spit-up, with their tendency to Screech. Of course, he was very, very incorrect. No Freezing Glare or Calm Mind could tame those tiny creatures (some not so tiny), and Avery was left to his own devices to determine how to care for the dojo’s precious, ferocious  Pokémon . It was completely undignified, being tasked with becoming the handler of  Pokémon so inelegant (much unlike his precious Slowbro), and Master Mustard simply sitting back with his video games and whistling whenever Avery so much as considered grumbling and griping (which was regularly).

Perhaps his master was Psychic-Type after all.

But, in truth, Avery knew he deserved it, and he knew he could handle it. His Dark-Type deeds during a battle with his rival (Galar’s own Champion, he found out belatedly) could have gotten him expelled from the dojo,  _ should _ have gotten him expelled. The memory of that battle’s conclusion had never left him, the gut-wrenching sensation of defeat, of regret. The flash of panic seeing Honey and Mustard, fully expecting harsh reprimanding, bracing himself for the disappointment that never failed to follow him. 

_ Why couldn’t he do what his younger relatives had been able to? Why couldn’t he simply work harder, put his mind to it? Why couldn’t he defeat a child, and why couldn’t he win even when he cheated? How pathetic. Be stronger, be smarter, be  _ better _ , Avery. _

But where he’d expected rejection, there had only been forgiveness. The Champion, still just a child ten years his junior, did not taunt or tease him. When he said he would understand should he tell the Dojo Master and Matron the truth, they simply refused, no malice or urge for justice. When Honey and Mustard knew anyway, his punishment was simply to care for  Pokémon . There was only kindness, and it was overwhelming in a way Avery had not been prepared for. The change after that day had been sudden and unexpected. That kindness, that encouragement he had found in two people who felt more like family than his own ever had, fueled a fire in his blood to be better.

Just not the Better Avery his parents had wanted.

He practiced patience, with other  Pokémon and with the other dojo students. He took on more chores, scouted the island, and even helped out every so often when Professor Sonia’s assistant came to research. Avery found it easier to be less harsh on others, and while still moving at a glacial pace, he was working on being less harsh on himself. Mustard never minded coaching him when his  Poké-sitting duties for the day were done, and it always left Avery feeling refreshed.

Eventually, the Champion came to visit again. And again. Every time, they would approach Avery and ask to practice with him. Every time, they utterly wiped the floor with him. 

But.

_ But. _

It had gotten easier to lose. That wasn’t to say Avery didn’t _want_ to win. He wanted to win more than anything. But now, when he lost, he saw a chance to learn. Their Cinderace left an opening after using Pyro Ball, so light on its feet, their Falinks weak to his cherished Psybeam. His Rapidash could avoid their Thievul’s Crunch if there was no hesitation in the gallop of its hooves. Even when he didn’t meticulously plan how best to beat them, which he did very often, Avery found himself battling with far more ease than before. Not that he hadn’t previously _liked_ Pokémon battling, of course. Battling had always been second-nature, when with his lineage it _had_ to be, but after coming to the Isle and joining the Dojo, losing to a child, and being forced to herd Pokémon around like a daycare worker…

Battling had been  _ much _ more fun.

Truly, his family would balk in disgust at the man he was becoming. Accepting defeat, mingling with common folk...it would be strange to see them now. To call them his family when the two people he had seen most as parental figures were on the very island he was living on. All his life, the pressure to be what his family wanted of him, had wanted of their legacy, had weighed on his shoulders like a Copperajah.

Taking his place as the Psychic Gym Leader would be the Psycho Boost he needed.

Currently, one of his cousins was the head of the Minor League Psychic Gym. His mother had retired a few years past, and as the family disappointment who had no hope of propelling them back into the Major Leagues, the honour had skipped him completely. He had instead graciously been given a chance as a Gym Trainer, and that had ended poorly and with several trainers levitated. But now, he was older (somewhat) and wiser (depending on who you asked), and submitting the paperwork to request a Leadership Challenge had been easier than he ever imagined. Part of him was giddy with the idea that his family would be horrified he would dare show his face so publicly to them.

The other part of him felt nauseatingly ill.

But the deed had been done. His formal request had been mailed by the fastest Corvisquire days ago, and he was expecting the response any day now. Briar had been intolerable at best, and aggravatingly arrogant at worst (a trait that was unsurprisingly prominent in their family), so wiping the smug expression she called a smile off of her face and outshining her with his own Dazzling Grin (too much?) as he was declared the new Gym Leader would be immensely satisfying. Even if he couldn’t teleport or communicate telepathically, as much as he kept practicing, Avery was quite confident he could now levitate circles around those peons he was burdened with being related to. After all, he trained under two separate Champions! Even if the current Champion was unaware they had been training him, none of his family could match that accomplishment. Oh, yes, Briar would be fuming when he held that tidbit over her head, leaving his poor cousin with a Shattered Psyche.

However, that underlying anxiety had made it difficult to stay still in the dojo. His punishment had ended weeks ago, so there were no duties left for him to handle in that regard. Honey had no need for any more Max Mushrooms, nor any Max Honey from Honeycalm Island (though he had no desire to fight a Dynamax Vespiquen anytime soon), so he was left to his own devices. After half an hour of mulling over potential activities, a grunt from his Slowbro led to the simplest conclusion. 

His Slowbro was more dignified than a common Slowpoke, so he had no need to walk his partner on a leash. Instead, Avery walked alongside his Slowpoke on the sandy shore of the Fields of Honour. The weather had started out rather pleasant, but Mustard regularly hogged the television, leaving Avery unable to hear anything about the weather before he left. All he had heard was news of some furious Flying-Type  Pokémon buzzing about the Wild Area, the former Champion planning something special in a few weeks time, and the latest irritating pop song to top the charts blaring from the speakers, before Mustard had changed the input and doomed the rest of the dojo to blissful ignorance about the mainland. After that horrible song, Avery wasn’t sure that was a bad thing.

He adjusted his hat as the wind began to pick up, grey clouds rolling over the horizon like an Expanding Force. Avery watched his Slowbro for a moment, wondering if the other regional form of his beloved partner  Pokémon had a knack for anticipating precipitation. While he wouldn’t trade his partner for the most Legendary of Legendaries, it would never hurt to have a  Pokémon that could predict when it was going to drizzle. But the Poison-Psychic type gave no indication it even factored in the weather to its daily life, and simply decided now was the ideal time to take a break, plopping itself down right into the sand by the Armour Station.

Avery couldn’t help but sigh. He knew how stubborn his Slowbro could be when it came to taking it slow. He did not want to try to physically lift the creature again, shuddering at the memory of his agonized muscles and potentially poison-damaged nerves. Returning his precious partner to their  Pokéball was out of the question if the situation wasn’t dire.  So it seemed Avery would be enjoying a cloudy ocean view, watching distantly as a Corviknight Taxi flew to the station, and as a red and black smudge appeared on the skyline.

Perhaps Hop had decided to return to the island. Surely, he would appreciate a welcome from Avery himself, maybe challenge the boy to a battle once he was settled in again. But Hop had left only a week ago, declaring he was going to study in the Crown Tundra with the Professor, and the Champion piping up that they were tagging along. Avery had originally suspected the two would last in the famously notorious cold for about a day before calling it quits, but both Hop and the Champion were persistent. Hopefully they wouldn’t freeze to death.

Then, he would be short  _ two _ rivals.

Lost in his reverie, Avery barely noticed the person bounding out of the station was the Champion. Confusion laced his thoughts, what had happened to visiting the Crown Tundra? It had only been about a week, after all. Surely, the research wasn’t  _ that _ simple. He opened his mouth to greet them, raised his hand to wave kindly and benevolently, when he had to adjust his spectacles to be sure he was seeing things right. The teen looked frazzled, their brown hair windswept from the ride (although Avery wasn’t sure why  _ anyone _ would stick their head out of a Corviknight Taxi window) with panic colouring their every movement, as though they had to flee and very quickly. Before Avery could collect his thoughts, they pulled out their Rotom Bike, gaze turning to the darkening sky as they slid the white helmet over their head. Their hands jolted, like what they had feared was in the sky all along, and Avery turned his head to squint at the approaching red and black bird as someone finally broke the silence, the sound of bike pedals moving and just as quickly stopping.

“Avery! I’m sorry, there’s not much time to explain, but I need you to go to the Master Dojo and tell everyone to stay inside! There’s a…a situation and...” 

The sudden frantic, breathless rambling of his region’s Champion was silenced as they watched the distant  Pokémon , their wide brown eyes just visible enough through the helmet’s lens. 

Truly, the situation couldn’t be so fraught with peril. The child had faced down Eternatus, the Darkest Day firsthand. Surely, this situation couldn’t be nearly as dire. Avery gave them a patient smile, a smile he had been working on. 

“Is this predicament something a trainer of my high caliber could assist with? I assure you, I’ve grown in talent for  Pokémon wrangling exponentially since last we battled.”

He managed not to ask if this was a serious issue. That was not a patient  _ or _ polite thing to ask.

They did not calm down, however, with fear present in their posture as they kicked their bike back off its stand. Avery felt cold, all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure whether it was the wind or the sinking feeling that perhaps this was indeed worthy of being called a “situation”. The Champion spared him one final glance, a faraway look as they spoke. 

“Please, Avery! I don’t want anyone else getting hurt, make sure everyone stays inside!”

And off they went, a call of their name dying on Avery’s tongue as they sped off onto the water, the Rotom bike effortlessly switching terrain. The  Pokémon was getting closer, distinctly bird shaped as it flew towards the Isle of Armour. For a moment, Avery was rooted to the spot. Was it going to head directly for the island? Was the Champion safe on the water alone, charging down a  Pokémon that looked much more threatening when it was close by? Thankfully, he hadn’t gotten to the point of nail-biting, frozen-vein anxiety as the bird swooped away, flying parallel to the island as the Champion had to sharply turn.

His Slowbro’s grumble brought Avery back to a point he felt he could move his limbs, deciding to recall Slowbro to its  Pokéball before it could lag behind. Normally, Slowbro was left lovingly to roam as it pleased, but this would have to qualify as an emergency. Time was of the essence, and there was no Trick Room to ensure his Slowbro would speedily follow behind. Avery held the brim of his hat as he ran, the Pokéball floating around the crown along with his other Pokémon. A cry that unnervingly sounded far too close for comfort rang out across the landscape, and Avery could see the Berry Grocer and Watt Trader look around confused.

“Everyone! Make haste inside, the Champion is handling a commotion outside and requires everyone safe indoors!”

He spoke with the most authoritative tone he could muster, and found with dampened glee that it had worked. If this  _ wasn’t _ another Darkest Day scenario, then perhaps he could put that tone to use when he ran his gym. But he followed the peddlers inside, closing the door behind him much louder than he normally would. Slamming doors in a huff was a rather inelegant thing to do, and he was nothing if not a gentleman. But desperate times called for desperate measures, steeling himself as he tried to portray a Calm Mind, finding Honey and Mustard in the kitchen.

Mustard, so normally affable and relaxed, seemed concerned by the outburst, and Avery had to wonder if they had heard him yelling outside. What they would definitely hear, however, was that same Pokémon cry, except now it sounded just about overhead. The paleness of Honey’s face and the hardening of Mustard’s spoke a thousand words, and neither of the three said anything as they went for the front door once again. One could almost assume they had all mastered telepathy. A student in the kitchen...Avery blanked on his name, was put in charge. Soup Boy (all Avery could remember was the boy’s love of Max Soup) saluted with pride for his new duty.

The wind was howling now, as Mustard opened the door and Avery followed outside, whipping up leaves and sending Pokémon running. Honey froze a few steps behind, delicate hand covering her mouth as the other pointed to a figure biking along the field.

“That’s our little champ, you two. What are they-” 

A pointed gasp came from the Matron’s lips as a towering bird swooped down from above, red and black wings blazing with ire, as if it was giving chase. Avery finally got the chance to see what this Pokémon was and what all the fuss was about. Why the Champion had looked so frightened, Avery now understood. 

Gigantic in size, the Pokémon looked like it was cloaked in flame and shadow. Avery could understand why red was used to signal danger, seeing as the creature sported the colour rather generously. Its wings were massive and powerful, sending gusts of wind every which way, and its talons and beak were hooked and cruel. This Pokémon was nothing like Avery had ever seen, and Honey looked similarly shell-shocked. Only Mustard seemed to look thoughtful, his gaze on the Champion and the beast as they almost seemed to race. Avery couldn’t stop his feet from moving, all of a sudden, as he followed the sight of the two heading towards the Soothing Wetlands, the footsteps of the elder two in his company just barely registering in his mind. The Champion had worried about people being hurt, hadn’t they? It hadn’t taken Avery much effort to deduce they were attempting to lure it into the wide marshy area. If the Pokémon was a Fire-Type, like the flaming wings implied, Avery was sure the Champion had factored in that terrain advantage as well.

He caught the sight of their bike picking up speed, wheels kicking up mud as rain began to fall on the island. In an astonishing feat of speed and strategy, the Champion had pulled their bike ahead of the Pokémon. The beast reared back as if struck, as they sharply turned the Rotom Bike to block the path. But the terrain, while advantageous against fire, was not helpful for bike maneuvering, causing them to fall directly into the wet grass as the creature seemed to regain itself. Avery hoped it would simply fly off, now that their opponent had fallen, but that sinking feeling in his stomach had only gotten heavier as the Pokémon cried out, swooping for its victim like a Braviary going in for the kill.

Avery thought once about calling out one of his Pokémon. Only another thought, and he could. But a forceful hand grabbed his shoulder and distracted him as he glimpsed the Champion throw out their Vaporeon, a Hydro Pump colliding with a pillar of...what looked like black flame. Something was wrong, here, Avery determined. Something was very, very wrong.

His head whipped around to meet the Dojo Master’s eyes, finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from the battle down the hill. Avery was filled with the sudden fear that, should he look away, he would miss a vital chance to help the Champion. They may have faced down an entire corporation, a raging legendary, and more Dynamax Pokémon than Avery cared to count, but they were still a  _ child _ . He, Mustard, and Honey were the adults, and he knew for a fact Honey had a Blastoise capable of Gigantamax.

“This is no time to muck about, Avery. Our little fighter there is more than capable of handling this. If you distract them, or we put ourselves in danger, we only make it harder for them to win. Do you understand?” 

Mustard fixed him with another serious look, and Avery hesitated for just a moment more as he heard the creature shriek again. As if it had been hurt. The Champion may have been a child, but they were more capable than Avery would have been.

“I understand, Master. But we can’t just leave, in case they get hurt.”

Mustard looked like he was about to laugh, but a miserable look from his wife wiped any indication off of his face. 

“Of course, Avery. You think I’d stay back if someone got hurt just cause I’m no spring chicken like you two?”

The twinkle of humour is back in his eyes, and while Avery isn’t sure what to make of his master sometimes, levity is one of his many talents. His gaze is immediately locked back onto the battle in the wetlands, though he hears the click of Honey procuring a Pokéball. Call him a telepath, but he was very sure that was the Blastoise he thought about earlier.

Except, Vaporeon seemed to be _losing_. Fire-types could beat out water-types through sheer determination, power, or luck, but Avery knew the strength of the Champion’s team. Vaporeon’s water moves barely seemed to throw the beast off. With every attack, Vaporeon seemed to be being pushed back, closer to their master. The Champion had managed to struggle to their feet, clearly aware of the perilous potential that the bird would simply attack _them_ should Vaporeon falter. In an instant, they retrieved another Pokéball, Cinderace leaping forth into battle as Vaporeon was recalled. Avery could just make out the Champion seeming to whisper something to the Dive Ball, before Cinderace leaping into action with a Double Kick blocked his view. The Striker Pokémon smashed into its opponent, before dodging a swing and rebounding to land another kick. Despite the mud, Cinderace seemed focused and steady, the Champion’s expression like a mirror image. It was easy to see the bond between a trainer and their first Pokémon.

From that last attack, the mysterious Pokémon seemed to be quite winded. Perhaps it was a dual type? But water hadn’t been super effective, even in the rain. He could tell Mustard was thinking the same thing, by the way he stroked his chin thoughtfully. Always analytical. Either way, a rush of pride filled his chest. His rival wasn’t the Champion of the region for nothing - hadn’t beaten him into the dirt several times for nothing either. Strange, strong Pokémon or not, he was sure they’d be able to triumph. He didn’t need Future Sight for that prediction.

But that damaging attack seemed to set the beast off further. Even as its wings shuddered as it flew, it was like something dangerous had slid into place. The Pokémon flapped its wings harshly, a pillar of that same dark flame before erupting from the ground, catching Cinderace off guard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Honey grab Mustard’s arm, her manicured nails digging into his jacket sleeve. Cinderace seemed to be struggling to regain its strength, despite reassurance from the Champion. Avery saw them ready a Ultra Ball, an empty one, and threw it at the beast with all their might. It gave Cinderace a chance to scramble back towards them, a Full Restore already in their hands. Avery watched the Pokémon screech as the device made contact, falling to the mud after a burst of light. Perhaps it would simply give up, now that it was caught and injured. 

Alas, things were never that simple. As Cinderace was healed, the Ultra Ball cracked open in a blinding display. The Pokémon seemed more enraged than before, diving for the two as Cinderace sprinted off to distract it. Avery tensed, realizing he was biting down on his gloved knuckle. For a moment, he was sure the creature was going to ignore Cinderace and mow down the Champion instead.

By then, Avery had begun to tire of watching. His nerves felt like they were on fire, like he was standing uselessly around when the Champion could genuinely be in danger. He had to keep forcibly reminding himself of Mustard’s warning, and every time he so much as glanced at his master, Mustard’s eyes never left the fight. He made no visible move, save for a brief shifting of his weight when it had looked like the Pokémon was going for the Champion. If the Pokémon  _ was _ weak to Fighting-types, then Mustard could easily remedy the solution without even pulling out Urshifu. But he hadn’t. It was a sign enough to Avery that he still shouldn’t intervene. The three simply stood in the rain, shivers that Avery couldn’t determine the source of plaguing his spine.

The Champion continued to throw Ultra Balls, but even as close as they got to succeeding a catch, the Pokémon refused to stay down. It was as if every attempt to subdue it had the opposite effect, like Topsy-Turvy. As their strongest Pokémon, and so far most effective, Cinderace had taken a large chunk of damage. It had done its best, but Avery could tell its strength was waning. But so had the strength of the Pokémon. All it would take was one lucky throw, one slip in the beast’s composure, and they’d be safe. 

Cinderace went down first. One last pillar of black flame, and the starter seemed too exhausted to move, collapsed in a heap as it was recalled back to its ball. Instead of reaching for another Pokémon, the Champion grabbed another Ultra Ball. The same moment, the Pokémon swooped for an attack, its talons glinting. Mustard finally seemed to start moving, Honey about to release her own Pokémon. But for some reason, Avery didn’t. He watched the Champion throw the empty ball, watched it collide with the beast as it was swallowed by bright light, and as the leftover momentum left the ball careening into a nearby puddle. With bated breath, he kept watching.

One shake. 

Two shakes. 

Three.

And then a click.

It felt like all of his muscles had liquified, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as he observed the scene below. The Champion looked just as surprised and relieved as he felt, watching their shoulders slump. Then, they laughed, and still seemingly hysterical, sat right down in the mud and collapsed horizontal. Their continued frantic laughing was at least a sign they hadn’t passed out. Honey hurried the quickest to the fallen child, with Avery and Mustard close behind. While obviously concerned, Avery didn’t miss the proud smile on his master’s face.

Honey was helping the Champion to their feet, fussing and checking their face, squishing their cheeks as if that would give insight into whether they’d been injured. They were still laughing, but hiccups interrupted every so often, as if they were about to cry.

“I was so afraid, sweetie! I thought that monster was going to skewer you like a cooked roast!”

Honey seemed even more emotional now that the danger had passed, squeezing her pupil close as the Champion accidentally smeared mud over her lime green top. Not that it mattered, the four of them were soaked to the bone anyways with rain. Avery wondered miserably how his hat would recover.

“I was afraid too! I-I didn’t know if that last one would work!” 

The Champion laughed, but it was clear they were dead on their feet, the energy to move seemingly sapped away. Honey beckoned Avery over, with a furrowed brow as he hesitated, and moved to support the Champion’s other side. He was reminded how small they were, only fourteen years old. Still growing and learning, and still much too young to have faced what they have.  _ But _ , he miserably thought,  _ the world doesn’t seem to factor that in when it decides who faces what problems. _

“Let’s make haste for the Master Dojo. We don’t want to have to use an Ice Heal on you.”

He joked, attempting some of Mustard’s expert humour to calm them down. It seemed to work, just a bit, as their legs began to function once more. As they walked back, Avery realized the Champion hadn’t picked up the ball with the strange Pokémon inside. Turning his head, his blond hair clinging to his skin, Avery watched as his master carefully picked up the Ultra Ball.

As if it would explode in his hands, Mustard was thoughtful and careful. But Avery saw him throw the ball up into the air and catch it again as he disappeared from view. He understood the caution, there was no telling what they would have to do if it broke free. A bird with fiery wings with no weakness to fire, willing to attack trainers who had caused it no harm. It had been seemingly intent on wreaking absolute havoc. And then came the matter of where it had even come from, why the Champion seemed to know it was on a warpath.

Just  _ what _ exactly was that creature?

Avery wanted nothing more than to find out.


	2. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avery makes some important decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit shorter than the first, but I felt like putting the Wild Area expedition in this chapter as well would have been too clunky. Keep staying safe everyone!

Avery received his answer.

It had come after the Champion had been bundled in blankets by Honey, and it was futile to argue against the matron when she had her mind made up. They all sat in Mustard’s so-called “gaming” room, which in reality was just a common living room with stacks upon stacks of video games scattered about. New to the room, however, was the Ultra Ball containing the captured beast sitting on the coffee table, unsettlingly still. Avery was afraid it would somehow burst back out and simply spear them all with that terrible beak. He made sure to give it a wide berth, but not  _ too _ obviously. He was an elegant adult.

Avery sat himself on a single chair, giving the poor, swaddled Champion claim to the couch. Not that he minded one bit - Mustard and Honey were practically squashing the child. Honey, with her borderline smothering, and Mustard simply taking up quite a lot of space despite being so lean. 

Yes, he was perfectly content on his own.

After Honey was reassured by the Champion for maybe the eleventh time, the teen took the Ultra Ball in their hand. Carefully, they rolled it over their palm, and when they were sure the ball wasn’t about to Self Destruct like an angry Electrode, they placed the ball on their blanketed lap. The three adults were silent as the trainer didn’t move, only taking out their  Rotom Phone and scanning the Ultra Ball beneath it. There was a series of clicks and beeps as the Rotom did its work, adding the creature to its Pokédex. Avery almost was entirely sure he had heard wrong, as the Rotom mechanically beeped out its analysis.

The creature the Champion had caught was Moltres. 

From what legends had said, the aptly titled Flame  Pokémon  was cloaked in fire at all times, and guided lost travellers through snowy peaks at their most desperate hour. It was a benevolent, powerful beast, but one that barely ever was spotted. Kantonians were the ones who had most often reported sightings, but it wasn’t uncommon to hear about citizens of other regions reporting seeing a flaming bird  Pokémon flying through the sky.  Avery had put stock in those legends, when he was younger. He believed them like every child believed a bedtime story about a mythical creature.

But if this was Moltres, this Moltres was nothing like the legends.

The  Pokédex named it as the Malevolent Pokémon. Cruel and unforgiving, the Legendary Fire-Type bird was not Fire-Type at all. Avery knew now why water had little effect on the Dark and Flying dual type. It also explained why the Champion seemed so exhausted after the battle, as the Pokédex entry stated that Moltres’ attack could sap away an opponent’s energy, burning it out of them. They hadn’t been directly attacked, but the Champion had that same horrible fire brush past them during their battle.

“I don’t want to let it out. Not yet, at least. But I don’t want it to be stuck in there forever.”

The Champion seemed to shrink upon themself, looking strangely ashamed. Avery couldn’t quite understand why - if it was because they were afraid of the Pokémon, they had no reason to feel shame. Avery himself could admit he would be...reasonably alarmed if they let the beast out of its cage this very instant. Or ever. He could live without seeing it ever again.

Mustard simply gave the Champion a pat on the shoulder, smiling that indiscernible smile of his like always.

“There’s no rush, even for the Champion. You did just catch the doozy of all bird Pokémon, so take some time to nap. Always does me some good.”

Honey scowled from the other side of the Champion, squeezing them tighter in her arms. Avery was certain should she hold the child any tighter, their head would pop right off, but the Champion seemed perfectly content.

“That’s because you nap too often, darling. You should put the “good” it does you to better use.”

Mustard just laughed, as Honey rolled her eyes. Avery could see the faintest smile stubbornly on her lips, as much as she tried to smother it. He realized how much of an outsider he felt like at that moment. Avery felt his lips press into a thin line, a feeling he had long since shoved under the surface threatening to rise. The Champion caught his gaze before it could make itself known. They opened their mouth to say something.

He heard their voice cut off as their Rotom Phone buzzed and beeped, dancing around their periphery. It looked like the three of them weren’t the only people who wanted to speak to the Champion.

They looked about sheepishly, adjusting their arms as Mustard and Honey gave them some space. Avery could’ve sworn the look on his master’s face was curiosity. The Champion then placed their finger to their lips, looking at Avery this time. He almost scoffed - he had enough tact not to speak during someone else’s phone call. Who did they take him for?

The voice that boomed through the speakers of the little Rotom Phone was boisterous and strong, enough that Avery would’ve been sure that he was in the room if he hadn’t known the voice was coming from a call.

“Chief! How’s the search going, you sped off in that taxi mighty fast. I’ve got a feeling my adventure expert succeeded at birdwatching?”

Avery couldn’t see the screen from where he sat across the room, but he could have sworn he had heard that voice somewhere before. Honey shot the Champion an intrigued look, to which they simply shrugged and smiled. They focused their gaze on the phone again.

“You’re right, captain. One down, two to go. Have you seen Articuno back in the Tundra?”

Avery felt like, for the second time tonight, he wasn’t hearing right. Articuno? One of three? Was this fourteen-year old trying to track down the three legendary birds from the beginning? 

No, not trying. They’d already succeeded. There were only two left to catch. 

The briefest flash of inadequacy was quashed beneath complete and utter disbelief. Who had tasked the Champion with finding literal legends? What kind of person was this, and were they flat out mad or a genius? Moltres was sitting in the Champion’s lap, after all.

Avery realized he had been completely tuned out of the rest of their conversation, and his face felt like it had been grimacing. He had been so lost in thought, he had lost track of his surroundings. Shame flushed through him, and he looked up in preparation to apologize, before realizing nobody had noticed. The Champion bid farewell to their companion on the phone, before it rang again. They groaned, their head flopping backward to face towards the ceiling, before looking at the screen and sighing. Almost apologetically, Avery noticed.

The Champion stood up from their blanket pile, ringing Rotom Phone floating about. 

“It’s my mom, I’ll be right back. I kind of want to talk to her...in private.”

They smiled sheepishly, before scurrying around the corner. The sound of a closing door close by indicated they ran into the spare changing room.

Avery heard Mustard let out a chuckle, Honey looking at where the Champion had left fondly.

“Of course they’ve befriended him. That child could charm the hardest of hearts with that smile of theirs. Not that that man has anything but a heart made of jelly. I’ve heard his daughter has convinced him to let her take part in Max Raids down there.”

Avery had absolutely no idea who Honey was talking about, or how she knew these things, but Mustard just combed his thumb through his beard and hummed.

“And it seems he’s now wrapped up in this beast hunt too. Well, best we can do is give them some support. I don’t know if they’ll want anyone else to handle this, now that they’ve started.”

“But that’s absurd!”

Avery found himself speaking before he even realized it, blanching as the matron and her husband laid eyes on him once more. Mustard’s eyes crinkled with understanding, still stroking his chin.

“Maybe absurd, but you’ve seen how determined that child gets. They tackled the Tower without anything but their heart and determination, they defeated Leon,  _ and _ subdued the Darkest Day. What could we say to convince them, when they’ve done so much heavy lifting on their own?”

Avery opened his mouth. Then, he closed it. His gaze fell to the floor, frustration making its way onto his face. He understood, the adults around them could do nothing when the Champion could. At only fourteen, they’d done things no trainer could ever dream of. He thought of the burden they bore, opposite to his own.

Where no one expected him to be better, and he struggled to prove them wrong, the Champion had been placed on the highest of pedestals the moment they’d won the Gym Challenge.

What could anyone like him do, compared to that?

His legs begun to move, before he had even thought to do so. Determination flared in his chest.

“I’ll go with them. I can make sure that they’re supervised. Maybe they were fine alone on their Challenge, but...you can’t disagree chasing incredibly dangerous Pokémon is something else entirely!”

He locked eyes with Mustard. Impassive and stoic, Avery knew he could never hope to understand what the man was thinking. But what Avery hoped his master would be feeling was pride.

“Well...that’s up to our little superstar, isn’t it?”

Mustard’s eyes left Avery’s, and the psychic saw a glimpse of familiar dark brown hair from the corner of his eye. The Champion seemed to have finished their phone call, Rotom Phone clutched near their chest with both hands.

Avery felt his stomach plummet. Would they think he’d been assuming they were weak? It was further than the truth, the Champion was stronger and brighter than he could ever hope to be. They pushed him to be a better trainer, to aspire to something entirely his own and unwritten by his family history. They helped him more than he could put into words, so all Avery wanted to do was assist them back. They were rivals, after all.

He opened his mouth to plead his case, but the Champion smiled up at him instead. Their hand tousled the back of their hair, still drying.

“I would appreciate the help. I was going to invite Hop too, so I think it’ll be safe to travel with three people. If something happened, and no one was there…”

Their brow furrowed, trailing off. In that moment, they looked truly small. Not the shining beacon of hope that stood so proud on the news, but as the child they really were.

Avery would not let the babysitting experience he had gained over the past half year go to waste. He was sure of that.

  
  
  


Hop had arrived a day later, rushing the Champion with all the force of a Dubwool gone wild. Where the Champion seemed subdued and calm alone, they turned into a chatotbox with Hop in their vicinity. It almost made Avery reconsider supervising the two on the rest of the hunt.

Almost.

He had already packed what he needed, remembering with a sour taste his own Gym Challenge. Avery wondered what his fellow challengers were up to now. Large backpack full of potions, Pokéballs, and curry supplies, Avery was not looking forward to also lugging his tent around. He had denied Hop’s offer to share, insisting the two friends share instead. Hop then had loudly told the Champion to carry as many Ultra Balls as possible to make up for the weight of the tent he had to carry.

It left a pang in his chest, for some strange reason.

Avery thumbed through the mail, another task he liked to handle for the dojo. Perhaps he was nosy, but Avery liked knowing what was going on and who thought to send mail to the Isle. Most of the time, it was fan mail for Mustard, or an outright scam.

No, none of the dojo members needed anything these people were selling. At least the geography made door-to-door salespeople an endangered species, here.

But one specific letter caught his eye. Stamped with the League logo, and an all too familiar emblem. Two twisted spoons.

His hand subconsciously went to the pin on his hat. His family had responded.

Suddenly, Avery felt like he was going to retch. Potentially right on the spot. Contact with his family had slowed to a crawl over the years, as he became more and more of a disappointing man to them. Not worthy of their title, not worthy of their attention. He could only imagine what they would say to him now, about to travel across the region in chase of some fantasy birds.

Only, those birds were real. This letter was League-officiated. There would be no scathing words, no distaste. Only a clinical confirmation - or denial - of his challenge request.

He was an elegant adult. He was Avery, heir to the Champignon title, whether his family liked it or not.

He took a breath. He opened the letter, sliding his index fingers under the flap of the envelope.

It took all of two seconds for his eyes to find the word “accepted”. His request had been granted. He would officially be challenging his family for their gym.

The smile that spread across his face was childish and he knew it, but somehow, he couldn’t stop it. He wanted to cheer and whoop and stomp his feet on the ground in triumph. This was his chance, his chance to show up his entire family. Perhaps he was the family disappointment, but what would that make his family when he thoroughly trounced them all?

He couldn’t wait to find that out. 

Avery scoured the document for more, his ego inflating and then, suddenly, bursting like a balloon that had gotten too close to a fire.

The challenge date was set a week from the current date. 

For most people, this wouldn’t be an issue. They would train for the week, arrange lodging, and battle like normal.

Most people were not about to go on a cross-Galar trip. Most people were not leaving for an expedition that could take several weeks, at most. 

The paper crumpled as his grip tightened, staring at the acceptance like it was the double-edged sword he was about to be impaled on. This was the chance of a lifetime, one he couldn’t pass up. If he failed to show, it would simply be another failure on the report of his life. He would be nothing to his family but a coward.

But if he backed out on his promise to the Champion? His promise to Hop, Honey, and Mustard? His stomach curdled at the thought. Disappointment from his family was one thing, but the idea of those four being disappointed sent sharp panic lancing through him.

What was there to be done?

He had to take this opportunity. Avery couldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

So it was simple.

He would simply have to help the Champion catch two legendary birds in seven days.


End file.
